


Baby-Blues

by CoffeesForFuckers



Series: Baby-Blues and Wide-Eyed Browns [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Band, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy, Happy Ending, Kissing, Love, M/M, Making Out, Mentions of Suicide, My Chem and Panic! and all those bands still exist just not fob, No Smut, Patrick is so hot Pete can't deal, Pete is rich, Peterick, Pre-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Random - Freeform, Romance, Sad, Suicide Attempt, Suicide mention, This took three days please show me love, forbiddon love, idk - Freeform, its fine, lots and lots of kissing, minor mention of suicide, nothing major, post-hiatus fall out boy, rich!Pete, slow build I guess?, theres not even a hospital visit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 08:39:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11437203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeesForFuckers/pseuds/CoffeesForFuckers
Summary: I just wanted so badly to be able to be with him without anybody caring that he was a boy and I was a boy and we sometimes kisses and sometimes did more than just kiss.But we can't...That's what happens when two worlds that were never meant to be, meet and fall in love I suppose.





	Baby-Blues

The baby-blues that lived across the way. That was my favorite part about summer in the family’s summer home. He may be some poor kid from the area that my family didn’t want me associated with but he was much too captivating.

I’d never actually talked to baby-blues before but I did like to watch him when he’d do all the things I was never allowed to do. I watched him growing up, living vicariously through him somewhat. 

We pull up to the gate and I spot the boy immediately. He’d changed a lot since last summer. I mean, I had too but not as much as the pretty baby-blues. His hair had gotten so long and his stupid ‘I heart bingo’ hat wasn’t atop his head and he seemed to have lost some weight. 

As for me, my hair was now only black, still a shitty emo fringe and I still have the too dark eyeliner around my eyes. This was my form of rebelling against my parents strict rules. I couldn’t do much else. 

We pull in and as soon as I get my stuff inside I run over and sit up on the giant walls that surround the house. I’m down near the gate, which I wonder why I don’t just hop over at this point.

Baby-blues notices me and smiles, giving a gentle wave. I almost fall off the wall as my heart skips a beat. I wave back and I see him get excited.

“Hey! Emo boy!” He calls and swoon at his pretty voice.

“Yes?” I call back to him.

“I accidentally flew my drone into your yard! Could you just toss it back? It’s over there somewhere!” He points to the opposite side of the yard.

“Yeah! Okay!” I jump down off the wall and hurry to find his drone. I think it’s a thing like mine, huge with a camera. Though I find a small one, a  _ very  _ small one. It’s white and grey with neon green propellers.

I frown at it and pick it up, looking it over in my hands for a moment before jumping back up onto the wall. The boy’s now stood below me and I sit down, handing him the toy.

“Thanks!” He grins, “I owe you one!”

He runs off and I’m left with a mouthful of words that are trapped in my lungs.

“Bye, Baby-blues.” I finally say, much too soft once he’s already long gone.

“Peter! What are you doing?! Get in here and unpack and get dressed for dinner!” My mother shouts at me from the doorway. I huff and jump off the wall, slowly making my way back to the house.

Dinner is just as awful as always. The family barely talking, when the do it’s nothing or a crack at my appearance and comparing me to my siblings.

I’m always the first done and the first to run off and do anything but be at that table. But tonight my mother calls me back.

“What? I’m kind of busy.” I huff.

“We’ve found a very lovely young lady for you.” She smiles up at me and I feel sick at the thought of even having feelings for a girl.

“Not interested.” I make a face as I turn away from the table.

“Peter Wentz! What are you talking about!? You have no say in this!” My mother speaks in her posh  _ ‘rich’  _ person voice.

“Too bad, I’m not dating her. You already control every other part of my life, you’re not having this one.” I insist.

“Peter! You do not speak to your mother like that! To your room!” My father points to the stairs.

“Okay, whatever. Just don’t dictate who or what I’m forced to be with.” I hiss and stomp up the stairs. Every single day I get told ‘look at this pretty girl!’ or ‘Oh! Peter, look at her!’ and my favorite, ‘Isn’t she a pretty one, you should talk to her!’

I’m too gay for this.

If they showed me Baby-blues though… In a heartbeat I’d be kissing him all over.

Okay chill with the gay thoughts. 

I sigh as I lay on my bed, staring out the window. The sun was setting over the lake, it was pretty but I’d rather be doing anything but just laying here mindlessly staring at it.

I get up and pace my room for a while before I pull the window open. Nerves welled within me as I looked down over the balcony railing at the deck below. The nerves weren't because of the height but more because I’d never actually defied my parents before, other than dressing the way I do and liking boys (which they didn't know about the latter of course) I had never done anything against their word. I had no idea how much trouble I’d be in if I got caught.

Yet I still jumped down into the bushes below. They always made that seem so fun in the movies but let me just tell you, it fucking hurts.

Once I catch my breath I fumble out of them, dashing over to the wall in the yard, using the tire swing hung from the big oak tree to jump up on it. 

My heart is racing as I dash down the length of my yard on this brick enclosure that has kept me practically imprisoned in here my whole life. I get nearer to the end of it and I feel like I could be sick with the fear of getting caught. Somehow I did run the entire forty or fifty yards of my home and make it to the end, not even stopping.

I leap from the wall to the street, landing on my feet but not long after, topple to the ground. I writhe in pain for a long while, my ankles sore from the impact.

Though little did I know that Baby-Blues was sat, watching me from his lawn, well, I didn't know until he spoke up at least, “Hey, Emo kid, you all good?” I hear him speak and my heart seems to beat so fast that it stops altogether at that point. 

I turn my head to face him, “I think I broke my ankles.” I hum in agony.

“Well, I wouldn't lay in the road like that if I were you. I know you're rich and privileged and all but cars will still run you over. “

“I may be rich, but I am in no way privileged.” I pant as I sit up, wobbling to my feet, as does Baby-Blues. 

He's so much better looking face to face.

“Like I'd believe that.” He says, somehow it didn't come off as rude.

“Listen, I'm basically everything my parents possibly couldn't want. I'm a fucking freak, I mean, just look at me! And on top of that, I hate the rich lifestyle and rich friends and all I want is to be like, well, you… and I mean I also refuse every girl that's ever come around.” I watch as he listens intently to me, we're still on opposite sides I realize and I start to cross the road.

“Well, why do you hate all of it and I mean, who wouldn't want pretty rich girls to be all over them?” He questions.

“One, because rich stuff sucks. I can't have fun unless it's rich fun. Rich fun isn't any fun at all. And Two, I'm probably the gayest human to ever grace this earth.” I say and watch Baby-Blues’ smile get wide.

“Really?” He grins.

“Yeah.” I give a breathy-laugh as I'm now stood right in front of him and I feel like I can't breathe. I've been waiting for this moment since I was little.

I stick my hand out to him, “I'm Peter Wentz.” I'm not sure I want to know his name. I've called him Baby-Blues since I was eight, “I don't mind Emo boy though.” I chuckle as anxiety now decides to cripple me.

“Wait, so, um, this may sound weird but I've noticed you a lot outside and I just called you Emo boy all the time because that's what I used to think before you told me your name, but did you call me anything like that?” Baby-Blues asks with his eyes now shining, “That's so dumb, oh god, I'm sorry, just pretend I didn't ask that! I just assumed you saw me just because I saw you and-”

“Baby-Blues.” I reply, “The first thing I ever noticed about you were your bright blue eyes, so, yeah…” His rambling had been so cute, his bright red cheeks. Shit, I need to calm down.

“Oh, wow. Thank you.” He's so red, “When we were little I used to call you Wide-Eyed Browns.” He blushed so hard as he said that, “Well, I still do but I just called you Emo boy to make it less awkward.” He laughs softly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Even though I'll miss thinking of you as Baby-Blues, what's your name?” I ask.

“Oh! God, I'm so sorry! I'm Patrick, Patrick Stump.” He informs and goddamn his name is just as pretty as his face.

“Don't apologize, it's okay.” I shake my head with a smile, “I love your name.” 

“Thank you.” He turns away to hide his pink cheeks.

“So, um, Patrick. Do you know any cool stuff that I can do? Like, places to go?” I ask, genuinely confused by the ‘ _ real _ ’ world.

“Well, do you like music?” Patrick hums as he stares into my eyes with his too bright ones.

“Yeah! Of course, I mostly stick to heavier stuff. Oh and Punk-pop is my guilty pleasure.” 

“Okay, so, there's a really cool old record shop in town if you'd want to go. I could, you know, maybe walk with you?” He seems like a timid person but I can tell he's flustered because of me.

“If you're uncomfortable with it then I wouldn't want to bother you.” I shake my head and he instantly jumps at the statement.

“No! I don't mean to seem like I don't like you or anything, I'm just not good with people. I want to go with you... If you want me to that is.” He grins at me.

“Of course I do. Please come with me.”

And that's how I met Patrick Stump.

I snuck out as often as I could over the summer just to see my Baby-Blues, or who I wanted to be mine at least. I got the vibe that he wouldn't mind being mine, though I just never got around to asking.

At the end of the summer I was sent home with his phone number and his stupid ‘I heart bingo’ hat on the condition that I'd bring it back with me next summer.

We talked constantly, I even managed to sneak out a few times and walk places to meet with him. (One of those times happened to be during a very bad snow storm and I almost got stuck at his house overnight).

His mother loved me and honestly, she was more of a parent to me than my own mother. They called me Pete at their house, not  _ Peter _ like at my home. I called him Baby-Blues and he didn't mind.

The summers felt too short. Two summers came and went too fast and winters droned on and on, too slow. The best part though is I got my schooling done by April every year due to the fact I was home schooled. We usually got to the house by April twelfth every year which is just in time to spend birthdays with Patrick.

I never got the chance to see Patrick after about October so once I was in the driveway I was hauling ass, getting everything unpacked in record time and hurrying to jump the fence. I sure as hell changed a lot, I cut off my mop and stopped stealing my sister's eyeliner (I kept the jeans though). My sense of fashion is still a mess nonetheless. 

I hop onto the tire swing as always and toss myself flawlessly onto the wall, dashing down it as fast as always and jumping down into the street. In the almost three years I’d been doing this my ankles had gotten used to the hard landings. 

My eyes meet those baby blue ones I'd fallen so hard for and then I look at the boy they belong to. He's almost unrecognizable. He's skinny, so tiny, his hair is in a short fringe with freshly shaven sides and his sideburns were now gone. I freeze at the sight and I assume he does the same. It only lasts a moment as I dash to him and throw my arms around his neck and his arms go around my waist.

“I’ve missed you so much!” I cry into his shoulder with excitement.

“I missed to too!” He holds onto me tightly.

“You look so different! Did you get a girlfriend or something?” I joke and he gives an awkward laugh.

“Well, no. I’m trying to impress a certain somebody, actually.” He blushes, which is something I notice he does a lot.

“Wow, same here.” I grin back at him, “So, I have this plan, it’s kind of ballsy. Do you have a really nice suit?”

|||

“The suit is so big on you, are you sure you have nothing smaller?” I ask him as I sit on his bed, trying to make it not look like he stole it from his parents closet. 

“I haven’t gone suit shopping since almost two years ago.” Patrick sighs as he sits next to me, “What if I just wore something nice, like a button down and khakis?”

“Um… Yeah, that’s a rich boy look, I guess.” I say, “I wouldn’t know.” I motion over myself. Patrick giggles and bumps his shoulder against mine.

“I like you this way. I don’t think you’d be nearly as attractive if you dressed in fancy clothes all the time.” He babbles and then gets violently red, “I mean! It’s not like I find you attractive or anything!” He defends, turning away from me to hide his tomato-like cheeks.

“Stop rambling and go put those clothes on.” I’m so red and flustered but I somehow flawlessly uttered that phrase and tapped my arm to his leg.

He gets up and fumbles through his clothes until he finds some nice looking clothing and he starts to strip down in front of me, “Uh! Do-... Uh, um… Do you want me to like… Um, step-... Step out?” I croak.

“Oh, god, am I making you uncomfortable? I should’ve known, I’m sorry.” He goes to rebutton his shirt but I catch his hands without thinking.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that, I just-... I thought since I was gay that you’d be uncomfortable because of  _ me _ ! I assumed you were just doing it because I-... Well because you thought you had to I guess?” I stumble over my words.

“No, I did it because I feel… I dunno… Safe with you.” He mumbles refusing to make eye contact as he unbuttons the rest of the shirt. 

I try not to look.

Really! I try. But, I mean, Patrick is just so… Pleasing… Perfect possibly?

“Pete… You’re staring.” He says with a wavering voice.

“I am? Oh, shit, I’m so sorry.” I turn red as I face away from him, “I didn’t mean to, I just zoned out.” (To the thought of you fucking me right here right now). 

I shake my head and watch my lap, occasionally sneaking glances in his direction. His boxers have little bats and pumpkins on them. I smile and blush.

He’s too cute, too amazing and I’m  _ so  _ gay.

“You don’t have to like… Not look at me and not talk.” He clears his throat and I look up at him as he’s buttoning his purple plaid shirt, still stood in only his boxers. I only get a glimpse of it but he’s packing and I’m fucking sweating like a whore in church.

“Sorry, I just always feel awkward when guys change around me because I’m gay and all and usually people are put off by it.” I hum, playing with my hands.

“It’s okay, I’m just very… Self conscious, for lack of a better term. I felt kind of like you were judging me.” He chuckles awkwardly, “I know you wouldn’t but it’s just habit.” He chews his lip and I now can’t stop staring at his stupid mouth.

“You’re perfect the way you are, ‘Trick.” I shake my head and mentally scold myself for being so straightforward with him.

As always his face turns blood red as he murmurs a soft ‘ _ thank you _ ’ in his cute little voice. I love him so much and I just want to hold him and squeeze him and kiss him all over. 

Okay, too gay, tone it down a bit.

Patrick’s pants are on and he seems to be ready once I snap out of my trance. 

“So you want me to pretend to be a rich kid and meet your family?” He asks me and I glance at him.

“Yes, I do.” I say.

“What if they find out I’m not?” He worries.

“Then maybe they’ll give up treating me like one of them when I would really rather be like you.” I mumble back, “I just don’t want to feel trapped anymore, Patrick.” I sigh and run my fingers through my hair, “I can’t even come out because I’m scared I’ll be abandoned!” Tears suddenly well in my eyes and Patrick is back right next to me. 

He sits and places a hand to my back, rubbing circles to calm me, “Well then they don’t really love you if they can’t except that. I’ll always be right here, right next to you when you need me.” Patrick leans his head on my shoulder gently.

“But, I know you care and everything but I cannot live with you if it goes as bad as I see it going. I can’t just intrude, I refuse to make you support me because of my family.” I say and he hugs his arms around me.

“If they do kick you out, Pete, then you’re living with me and I’m not giving you an option on that.” I hear him mumble into my back. I let out a breath, I can’t tell if it was a sigh of relief or a sigh at Patrick’s stubborn nature.

“I can’t do that to you.”

“It’s not a burden on me, I would have no problem with it and neither would mom. You aren’t high maintenance and annoying as hell so it’ll be no problem.” My heart races at hearing this. I couldn’t tell you why even if you paid me, but it did.

“Thank you.” I mumble, “Let’s get going, we need to sneak over to the lake and make it look like I went for a walk and met you in, what I like to call, ‘ _ the circle of money and assholes _ ’.” He laughs at my statement and we stand.

Patrick calls a bye to his mom and she says not to get into trouble, perusal. I point out the gap between my neighbor's wall and mine and I can see it leads right out to the lake. I take Baby-Blues by the hand and without a word we run through the gap and out to the lake. We’re both panting heavily by the time we reach the end but we’re laughing and that’s all that mattered to me in that moment. 

We catch our breaths after a while and make our way to the house. We enter through the back and my mother instantly spots us and looks Patrick over, “Who’s that, Peter?” She nods towards the boy.

“His name is Patrick, he lives on the other end of the lake, over near the golf course.” I say without even stuttering.

“It’s great to meet you ma’am.” He extends his hand to her.

She stares at me, “Why couldn’t you have brought a girl home, Peter?! My lord, you’ll never find anyone with the way you say no to dating people.” I sigh at her scolding me.

“I think I should have friends first mother, I’ve never had actual friends before so I’d like to start there first.” I huff.

“You have plenty of friends!” My mother tosses her arms in the air.

“Name one!” I snap and I see her tense.

“Um, well… You have Trisha and Sloane.” She tries.

“No, those are the girls you’re forcing down my throat. Now stop being fucking rude and apologize to Patrick.” I demand and both her and Patrick seem shocked.

“Peter! Do not speak to me in that way! Especially in front of guests!” She gasps, “I cannot believe you, such an embarrassment, Peter.” She mutters as she goes back to working on whatever the hell she’d been doing.

Patrick looks over at me in awe of what had just happened. I shake my head and bring him up to my room where he instantly becomes interested with all my music stuff.

“Cool! You have a bass!” He gasps as he sits in the rolling chair at my computer desk, picking it up and turning on the amp.

I immediately hover over him as that bass was basically my child. He plucks at the strings and tunes it better than I had it and starts playing a My Chemical Romance song.

“Do you only have a bass?” He looks up at me as he stops strumming.

“Yeah, we have a studio in the basement, I just keep the bass up here because that’s all I can play.” I chuckle, “Come on, I’ll show you.” He places my bass down and follows me to the studio.

We had a piano, saxophone, three guitars, drums, violin, ukulele and a push electronic music maker because that’s how I actually could make music since I couldn’t play anything.

“Oh my god! This is-... Wow…” He gasps.

Patrick gets behind the drums and beams at me, “I can play every instrument in here except the sax.” He tells me and my jaw drops.

“I can barely play bass.” I chuckle, “Show me your skill.” I say and his smile grows.

“Drums are my favorite, I want to be a drummer.” He tells me as he takes the sticks in his small hands. I notice him position himself better on the stool and think of a song, “What’s your favorite song?” He asks me.

“Uh, well, at the moment it’s Mr. Doctor Man by Palaye Royale, you probably don’t know them though.” I give a laugh.

“I love that song! I learned that one a while ago.” He smiles as he begins to bang out the song, he does the entire song without missing a beat, I am honestly in awe of him. The way he moves, he zones out of reality and into the song, his going so hard at it that his hair is an absolute wreck and his glasses fall off. This was so hot.

He finishes and I gush about his talent and he insists that he has more to offer and I tell him to try piano, where he flawlessly plays ‘ _ This is Gospel _ ’ by Panic! at the Disco. The way his fingers run across the piano is magic. He’s perfect, I know he is as he makes his rounds about the instruments, he plays each one like a fucking god, well with the exception of the saxophone that we only have for my little sister Amelia.

“I’ve been writing songs for a while and I’ve been working on a new one if you want to hear the rough outline of the piano piece for it?” He asks me as he sits at the bench.

“Yeah, of course.” I nod and don’t expect him to start singing.

I should’ve expected a voice of gold from the little perfect man that I’d fallen madly in love with. He sings soft lyrics, more to himself than to me. I listen to him and god, it’s fucking beautiful.

“ _ Honey is for bees, silly bear… Besides, there's jelly beans everywhere… It's not what it seems in the land of dreams… Don't worry your head just go to sleep… _ ” He coo’s gently, swaying a bit to the melody. His singing stopping but the melody continues for a moment, “That’s all I have right now, but I mean, I’ll figure out more.” He chuckles.

“Can you like… Sing for me?” I practically beg.

“Um, W-... What?” He stutters as he looks at me with wide-eyes, blushing as always.

“I could hear you singing and you’re amazing. What are you not good at, honestly?” I gush and he looks at me, kind of shocked.

“I’m not a good singer, stop.” He mumbles.

“Prove it and sing to me.”  I cross my arms and he huffs. He stares at me waiting for me to relent and I stare back, waiting to be sung to.

He groans as he knows I’m in no way giving in to him, “Fine! What song should I sing then?” He asks me.

“Um… Cancer by My Chemical Romance.” I tell him and he lets out an almost annoyed sigh.

“Okay, I’m playing piano with it.” He agrees and turns back to face the keys, his fingers gracefully falling into place and playing the melody.

Patrick focuses on the music and closes his eyes, his fingers running across the black and white keys with swift and precise movements, his lips then parted and out came the most beautiful sound. His voice was golden and unmistakeable as he sang the lyrics with care, “Turn away… If you could get me a drink…” His voice lifts at the end and falls back perfectly for the next line, “Of water…” His voice wavers perfectly, “‘Cause my lips are chapped and faded, call my, Aunt Marie…” He leans more into the piano, slowly becoming entranced by it.

I sit in awe of him, “Help her gather, all my things, and bury me in all my favorite colors… MY sisters and my brothers still…” He pauses as he proceeds into the chorus, “I will not kiss you.” His voice suddenly booms, ringing out and I’m blown away, “‘Cause the hardest part of this… Is leaving you…” His voice still ringing loudly, echoing slightly off the piano. 

His fingers freeze and he stops, looking over at me now completely unconfident, “Oh my… Patrick… I-... I don’t even know what to say…” I rub at my eyes as they’d filled with tears at the sound of him.

“Was it awful?” He is too worried.

“You moved me to fuckin’ tears, Patrick! How could that be awful!? My god, you’re perfect!” I ramble, “Your, um… Voice I mean.” I turn red and he does as well.

“Thank you… Pete…” He mumbles, standing from the instrument, “We should go to the lake.” He suddenly announces.

“Okay? We can’t really swim though, we aren’t in our swimsuits.” I stand as well.

“I don’t care, I want to sit on the boardwalk thing and watch the sunset. I hear it’s gorgeous over the lake.” He smiles and I nod.

“It’s beautiful.” (But not as beautiful as you).

I was hopeless. (And a complete, super cheesy, sap).

|||

My legs dangle down over the doc, it was pretty high up from the water so my legs couldn’t touch, neither could Patrick’s obviously. I feel Patrick’s soft hand press atop mine. 

I stare down at our hands as my chest gets tight and I struggle to breathe. I couldn’t help but to get over excited about it. I wanted to be with him so badly but this was as much as I was going to get.

Patrick’s head drops to rest on my shoulder and it takes everything in me not to start screaming. He stays like that for a bit before sitting upright and looking over to me apologetically, “Sorry, I forgot if your family sees then you’d get in trouble.” He murmurs.

“No, it’s okay.” I shake my head but he stays sitting up normally, staring into the distance.

We sit silent for a long time, him watching the water and me watching him. He glowed orange and gold, his blue eyes flecked with gold bits from the sun. He looked so smooth and soft. 

I shake away the thoughts, this is why I was an outcast in my family. I couldn’t be like them because I suck.

“Why couldn’t I just be fucking normal?” I sigh out loud, meaning to be saying it in my head and not so Patrick could hear.

“What? There's nothing wrong with you, why are you saying that?” He asks with worry dripping from the words.

“I dress like an idiot, I hate everything everybody wishes they had and I just had to be gay!” I want to cry suddenly, “Why couldn’t I have just been born straight? Why am I like this?” I speak with a shake in my voice.

“Pete… Please don’t think like that… You’re amazing. You’re family is the shitty ones, you’re one-hundred percent normal!” He tells me softly.

“No it’s not. No boy, rich nor poor, would ever want to kiss someone like me.” I huff, “I should just pretend I like girls and give up.”

“No, just be you! Pete, you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met. You’ve never treated me shitty, you always have a smile on your face and tell me I’m amazing, even when I’m not… You make me so happy and I bet you make other people happy too! Someday you won’t have to worry about any of this anymore, never again will you be sad because you’ll find the person who loves you even when you're sad, or even when you’re weird, even when you’re a complete idiot. Just wait, you’ll see that I’m right. I’ll be by your side every step of the way and that’s a promise, okay?” He says and I nod, afraid to speak as I know I’ll cry, “And I mean, so what if you’re a boy who likes boys? It’s okay to kiss boys if that’s what makes you happy!” 

And I kiss him.

I couldn’t take it anymore, staring into his eyes as I fight back tears from the kind words he’d just flooded me with while the light hits him and makes him look like some kind of god. Something welled within me and now I had my mouth on his and he tastes like strawberry candies, coconut chapstick and a hint of bitter chocolate, his mouth is soft and moves with mine like the way the sky meets the land or the way that waves lick at the sandy shoreline. His hair tickles my forehead and his hands cup my face like a perfect mold.

Jesus Fucking Christ, it’s better than anything.

He tastes sweeter than any girl, is smoother than a lipstick stained mouth and moves better than anybody I’d ever met. 

Perfect wasn’t even a good enough word to describe him.

He was indescribable perfection at it’s finest.

And then I get hit in the head with a soccer ball and end up in the absolutely freezing water below.

|||

“Does this hurt?” Patrick asked as he bandaged my forehead where I slammed it against the edge of the dock on the way down.

“No, it feels like fucking feathers, what do you think?” I mutter and he smacks me upside the head.

“Stop being a bitchy, rich fuck.” He tells me as he puts yet another bandage over the mark.

“I’m sorry, I’m just bitter over the fact that some shithead ruined the moment I waited my whole life for.” I grumble and Patrick’s hands freeze on my skin.

“What?” He asks and I realize what I’d just uttered.

“Um, nothing, just ignore me.” I looks away and he catches my cheek swiftly with his hand.

“I’m not done with your forehead, get back here.” He speaks, turning my face back to him, he kisses me as soon as our eyes meet. He brings his other hand up to the opposite cheek, holding my face gently.

He pulls away after a moment with his hands still in place, giggling, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. I’m really not done with your cut yet.” He taps his fingers on my face softly.

“Is this just…  _ Fun…  _ To you?” I ask him and his happy smile fades.

“What do you mean?” He squints at me.

“I-... Patrick, I have very strong feelings for you… Do you just see the kissing as some type of game? ‘Cause I mean it, I  _ really  _ mean it….” I admit.

“What kind of feelings?” He ignores my question.

“Like, the kind where just thinking about you makes my heart pound, and when you touch me I can’t catch my breath, when I see you I can’t stop smiling and everything you do is just perfect, like, the kind of feelings where I can barely speak when you do or say certain things. You make my chest hurts and lungs ache and just… Lots and lots of feelings.” I choke, “Now, Patrick, is this a game?” I repeat and he shakes his head.

“No, I wouldn’t do that to you.” Patrick stares at his lap, “The truth is, I just… I don’t know how to feel about you. Like, my head says no, because you’re a boy, and I like girls but everything you just described is how I feel towards you. I’ve always been strangely drawn to you and it kind of scares me.” He sighs softly and I take his hands in my own.

“Hey, look at me.” I tell him and he doesn’t so, I lift his head up with my finger and press a smooth, quick kiss to his mouth, “It’s okay to kiss boys if that’s what makes you happy.” I whisper, my mouth brushing against his pinkened lips as I speak and he tries desperately to catch my mouth, leaning in more and more to try and reconnect our lips, I swiftly evaded his attempts all while staying close enough to practically feel his mouth on mine without even touching him.

He lets out a soft, so soft that is barely audible, whimper, practically begging to be kissed again. He helplessly holds his eyes shut, gripping my shirt, “Please.” He breathes out, it’s barely even a sound that slides past his lips.

“Nice try, Baby-Blues.” I coo in reply, just as soft as him. He whines as his grip gets tighter on my shirt, trying to pull me closer.

He swallows hard, forcefully, “Pete, oh, god please.” He pleaded, leaning his jaw more towards me. I smirk, he’s so hot like this but I give in. I like teasing him.

I kiss him and he kisses me back desperately. I start to laugh gently and pull back, “Pete, will you go on a date with me? Please?” He looks into my eyes, his wide and bright.

“Why would I do that?” I joke and kiss him again, “I  _ definitely  _ don’t like you or anything.” Another kiss and Patrick is giggling.

“I don’t know where I’d take you because you obviously don’t like fancy stuff, but I don’t want it to suck…” He rambles and I smile at him. Just him sitting across from me on the floor was enough to give me butterflies. He’s so perfect.

“Just take me to your favorite places and maybe a McDonalds, because I’ve always wanted to go, and I’ll be happy.” I tell him and he grabs my hands.

“That’s not special, Pete.” He frowns.

“It’s special if you’re there.” I grin at him and his eyes just seem to sparkle. I lean in to kiss his smooth mouth when the door flies open. Patrick is quicker than I thought as he instantly grabs another bandage from the floor between us and starts fumbling with the wrapper.

“Stay still, let me just get the wrapper open.” He fake scolds me, peeling the back of the bandage off and sticking it to my head.

I glance over to find my brother Vincent is in the doorway, “What do you want?” I ask.

“What are you doing in here?” He snaps.

“I’m putting bandages on Pete’s forehead, he hit his head on the dock.” Patrick hums as he puts another on me.

“I was asking,  _ Peter _ . By the way, his name is  _ Peter _ , not  _ Pete _ .” He’s such a prick. I stand up and make my way to the door.

“I said, what do you want? If you don’t have anything you fucking need, get the hell out.” I snap, “And _ by the way,  _ stop being a prick.” 

“Mother says that boy has to go home now.” He peers down at me. Man, I hate being short.

“No.” I say back, “Fuck off,  _ Vincent _ .” I insist.

“It’s okay, Pete, I bet my mother’s wondering where I am.” Patrick is now on his feet, standing behind me.

“Um, okay, I’ll walk you home.” I push past Vincent and Patrick follows close behind me. Him and I go downstairs and my mother gives the two of us dirty looks as we exit through the back door. Him and I take our time as we walk down the sandy shore, hand in hand, just talking about anything. It was nice, so nice and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“I don’t want to leave when the summer ends.” I sigh.

“I don’t want you to go either.” He tells me, “I never want you to leave.” He lays his head on my shoulder as my arm goes around his waist.

“I’ll figure something out.” I mumble and kiss the top of his head. 

We get far enough away from my house and sneak through someone’s yard and out to the street where we walk back to his house. I tell him I’ll try and sneak out later to see him and he tells me he can’t wait.

We blossom fast, we fit together better than a puzzle, better than red and blue, better than the night and day. Though it gets harder and harder to sneak around our families (Mostly mine) with everyday that passes. Patrick’s mother is a lot less harsh about me being around him than my own family.

I just wanted so badly to be able to be with him without anybody caring that he was a boy and I was a boy and we sometimes kisses and sometimes did more than just kiss.

But either way, it didn’t stop us from being together.

I’d bought him a bunch of rich people clothing so he could fit in a bit better with the idea that he was also rich. He hated me spending money on him but money wasn’t even a thing anybody in my family seemed to worry about, that was the only thing that had rubbed off on me.

Patrick continues to amaze me with each day that passes by, he always will be something more special than anything I could ever buy or use money for. 

We lay on the beach in July, four months together and it felt like years. I loved him more than anything. His head falls to look at me as we laid under the hot sun, drying off from us fucking around in the lake for the past few hours. 

I turn to look at him as well and he smiles. I lean in and push our mouths together, placing my hand to his cheek. It doesn’t last long and I pull away, sitting upward, my eyes locking with Vincent. 

We stare at each other for a moment before he starts to turn and I get to my feet and chase after him, I'm right behind him in seconds.  “Peter was-” He starts to yell as I tackle him to the ground.

“Vincent. Don't you fucking dare.” I snarl lowly, “I swear, you say anything and I'll tell mother that you're sleeping with Leigh.” I threaten. Leigh was my tutor and I knew my mother would flip out if she knew, especially my father.

“You wouldn't.” He snaps.

“Try me, Vincent. You tell anybody and I'll expose you.” 

“Nothing is as bad as you kissing a boy. Mother would much rather me be sleeping with a commoner than with a rich  _ boy _ .” I seethe at his words. I knew I'd be seen differently for this.

“She would not.” I speak somehow convincingly even though I know I'm lying.

“Fine. I don't say anything and neither do you.” He agrees, “Now get off of me.” He tries to push me off as I stand. 

I point at him once he's up and shoot a glare towards him, he nods and heads inside as I make my way back to Patrick.

“Pete, I am so sorry… I-... Oh my god, I just ruined everything didn't I?” Patrick stutters as I approach him, he's already at his feet.

“Baby, you didn't do anything wrong, don't apologize, it's okay, that was all me.” I coo in attempt to rid him of the idea that he did anything to upset me, “He won't be saying anything anyway, I have some dirt on him and if he talks, I talk.” 

Patrick sighs, relief I assume and he looks into my brown eyes with his blue ones and smiles.

I smile back at him, “I'm sorry that I ruined the moment.” I say, “Let’s get changed and go do something fun.” Patrick agrees and we head off inside.

We get up the stairs and start heading down the hall to my room when Vincent steps from his. I eye him over and he does the same to me. 

As we pass him, he grabs Patrick's arm and stops him, I instantly get angry and go to yell when he starts to speak, “Thanks for making my brother happy, in all honesty, I've never seen him so happy and I'm grateful. And just saying, be a bit more discreet on your way over and back, our parents might find out you live across the street.” He pats Patrick's back and heads down the stairs. We stare at each other in shock for a long time before regaining our posture and going to get changed.

|||

Days slip past too quickly for me. Before I know it, another week has passed me by. I dreaded the last day of summer more than you could ever imagine. I needed to find a way to get out of going back to our so called, ‘ _ home'. _

I jump over the wall, per usual and make my way to Patrick on the other side of the street. I drape my arms over him and feel him squeeze his arms around my waist. I grin and leave a kiss on his neck.

We break apart after a moment and he smiles at me, “Where to today?” 

I shrug, “Could care less as long as you're there with me.” 

“You say this every day, Pete. Can you ever make a decision?” He jokes.

“I decided to kiss you that day, is that a good enough decision for you?” I tease and poke him in the ribs.

“Peter!” I hear a gasp that cause both Patrick and I to look. My mother is stood on the other side of the gate to our home, “That boy! He-... He's a commoner!?” He shouts and I could see Patrick's head fall to face the floor in defeat.

I swallow hard, “So what?” I start to make my way back to the gate, “He treats me better than all the snobby rich kids around here anyway.” I say and I don't know why it's so hard for me to argue back this time.

“You tell that-... That… Filth of a boy goodbye and come inside right now. We have things to discuss.” She demands in a way she never had before.

“No.” I insist.

“Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the third! You are to come inside right now damnit!” She shouts and I'm taken aback. 

“No way. I won't.” I persist and she holds her ground, staring at me with such seething rage that I'm actually scared. 

I turn to face Patrick and he shakes his head, seeing me hesitate to walk forward, “It's okay, just go. I'm not going anywhere.” He says with a deeper meaning, referring to our talks. 

I clear my throat and nod, giving him a wave,  I can't speak. 

My mother opens the gate and pulls me in after that and within an hour the whole family is at the table and I feel like my whole world just collapsed.

That's what happens when two worlds that were never meant to be, meet and fall in love I suppose.

Everybody is yelling at me, arguing with each other as I say nothing. Vincent knows and doesn't say a word himself.

I hear him whisper an ‘ _ I'm so sorry…’ _ my way and it takes everything in me not to cry.

“He some filthy poor kid and no way will I allow my child to see nor speak to such a minor human.” My mother shakes her head.

“That's it, Peter, it's final. You cannot speak to him any longer.” My father speaks too loud and his words bounce in my head as I stand up and slam my fists on the table as hard as I can.

“No!” I shout so loud my lungs ache. Everybody is silent after that, the bickering secing. 

“Peter. You knock it off right now.” My father scowls. 

“No! I won't! You-... You can't do that!” I yell, “He's my only fucking friend, do you not understand that!?” Tears are freely pouring down my face by now.

“It doesn't matter, Peter. You can find more friends.” Mother crosses her arms.

“Not ones that care about me! Do you really fucking think that any of your rich S.O.B. friends give a single fuck about you!?” I break, “They wouldn't give two shits if you  _ died _ ! Why the fuck do you even care!? This is my life not yours!” I'm practically screaming at this point, boiling over and way past my breaking point.

“Peter Wentz! What has gotten into you!? That filthy poor boy has destroyed your mind! This is why we cannot let you be around him any longer.” My mother insists.

I'm bawling at this point and I can tell Vincent feels awful just by the look on his face.

“Do you want me to fucking kill myself?! You really hate me don't you?! You really do fucking hate that I'm living because I'm a disgrace to you! I'm nothing like any of you people and I never want to be!” I slam my hands down on the table again.

“Why does it even matter so much to you? It's just a person.” Father glares at me as everything finally explodes and I can't hold back.

“Because I'm in love with him!” I yell from the top of my lungs, “I'm gay! I am a boy who likes kissing boys and that's okay! If kissing boys is what makes me happy that's all that should matter!” I sob so hard that my chest burns and my lungs hurt and I hurt, everything just  _ hurts _ and I can't fix it. My throat is on fire, stinging like how it feels when you throw up, my chest feels like it's caving in. 

I just  _ hurt _ .

The silence is unbearable as my mother and father and everybody sits and just stares at me. They look at me like I'm some kind of monster.

I could be sick.

“Fuch this.” I shake my head as I go to walk away. I couldn't take it anymore.

“You are not going to see that boy, Peter. He made you gay for Christ sakes!” Mother shouts at me.

“You got it wrong, I've been gay the whole time but he's the only guy that ever made me happy enough to pursue.” I growl, “I've always been gay but I was too scared to tell you for this  _ exact _ reason.” I hiss, “I don't know why I was so scared because it seemed to make you stop running your fucking mouths for more than five minutes.” I spit venom with my words.

Everybody just seems to sit and stare at me because of who I am. It's as if I were a fucking creature they'd never seen and out pissed me off.

It pissed me off until I got up to my room and it sunk in that I couldn't have Patrick anymore.

That's when I sunk into a heap on my floor and cried silently for the rest of the night.

|||

I spent the rest of my summer inside, I couldn’t sneak around, I’d tried a few times but got caught each time. My siblings telling my parents on me because they’re fucking snobby, rich pricks.

The winter dragged on and by April I just had nothing left that I wanted to live for. 

It was April 19th when I sat in my room with the bottle of pills. I would take one by one as I watched the sun set. I had to have taken about three by the time Vincent came to check on me.

“Pete! What the hell are you doing!?” He rips them away from me, I fight with him, refusing to give in so easily, but he’s bigger than me and I don’t want to stand because I’m getting tired as hell.

“Stop! I don’t want to be here anymore! I don’t want to live like this! Nobody likes me and nobody would care even if I died. Give them back Vince!” I grab for them and tumble off my bed.

“How many have you had, Pete?” He demands more than asks.

“Only like three.” I say in a disappointed tone.

He runs a hand through his messy, long hair, “Why couldn’t you just come talk to me? I’m here for you.” He tells me as tears threaten to fall. Him and I had become so close after everything had blown up, he told my parents about Leigh and they didn’t seem to care much as they’ve been too busy forcing me to be straight and act like a rich boy, which I’ve refused.

“Because, I just want Patrick… I just want to be happy again…” A tear falls down my cheek and I swallow hard, forcing the rest back.

He turns and makes his way to the door, I jump up and follow him, “What are you doing?” I call after him.

“What I should’ve done forever ago.” He mutters as he stomps down the stairs quickly. Vincent heads into the kitchen where my father was at the table and my mother was rearranging the cabinets.

He fires the bottle onto the table and pills fly everywhere, “You see what you fucking did!? This is your fault! You couldn’t just let him have that one shred of happiness that he found!? I can’t fucking believe you! He just was going to kill himself with those because you fucking suck at parenting!” He shouts, “How would you feel if he died because of you!? Luckily I walked in when he’d only taken three but just imagine the guilt you’d feel!” He calls.

Both our parents stare at us like we’re insane for the longest time.

“Stop fooling around, you’re not seeing that boy.” Mother looks us over and Vincent seethes.

“Are you fucking shitting me!? If he were being pulled out in a goddamn stretcher you’d still think this was some fucking sick game because you’re fucking insane! He was going to kill himself because you won’t even let him be a person anymore. He lives in that goddamn room, alone, all day, everyday because it’s easier than hearing you criticize him!” Vincent growls, “If anything, he isn’t the disgrace to this family like you always seem to tell him, you are. You’re the reason that we are all miserable, mostly Pete, because he fucking deserves better and all you do is shit all over him for nothing!”

They’re shocked at his outburst, as am I, but they’d never seen him get so angry.

“You’re serious…” My mother places the plate in her hand down on the counter, I can tell she’s lost her composer.

“Of course I am! Why the fuck would I joke about that!?” He yells.

“I just thought that this was about that damn poor kid.” She sits at the table.

“Well, it fucking kind of is! You hate him because he loves the boy across the street, just because the boy isn’t a girl and isn’t rich doesn’t mean he can’t fucking be around us. I’ve known about them for a long time and he loves that boy, he loves him so much that whenever he talks about him his eyes glow with life again, seeing him ignites this flame in Pete that just isn’t there anymore… You should just be happy that your son is happy.” Vincent scolds.

“He can’t be gay and he can’t speak to the commoners, it makes us look bad.” Father speaks.

“You know what’ll make you look fucking awful?! If your kid kills himself because you fucking treat him like garbage!” He argues.

“We do not!” Mother defends.

“Actually, you do.” I chime in, “You always have, because I’m not up to your standards… Patrick never, ever made me feel bad ever. I love him because he loves me for me.” I say and my mother shakes her head.

“Listen, just because father doesn’t touch you anymore doesn’t mean you can hate on Pete for finding somebody that wants him.” Vincent implored, shrugging as he turned to face me, as I died of laughter.

“Vincent!” Our mother shouts with wide eyes.

“Just saying the truth.” He stated with a smug smirk.

“I can’t believe you right now, Vincent.” Father shakes his head.

“I can’t believe  _ you  _ right now! You’re treating your son like a stranger for who he loves!” I think that’s when it sunk in with both of them, “Now, let him see Patrick!” Insists Vincent. I owe this man everything.

“Let us talk it over and we’ll let you know.” Our father growls angrily.

That’s when Vincent grabbed my arm and pulled me back towards the stairs, “Call us when you’re done talking… Wait, no, scratch that, we’ll be back in an hour.” And he pulls me up to his room where he distracts me with a tv show.

|||

“We’ve decided that… You can see Patrick again…” Sighs mother as she runs her fingers through her hair in defeat, “But him and you cannot be anything other than friends.” She tries to compromise.

“I’m going to date him no matter what, you know? I’m gay and you can’t change it and I won’t fake being straight for you.” I insist with my bloodshot eyes from crying to Vincent.

“It’s a rule, if you want to see him then you have to knock it off and be friends.” She snaps.

“Then it'll just be like before with us sneaking around because I can't take this anymore. I'm in love with him and he makes me happy. He's what makes me feel okay.” I tell her, “He makes me happy and I think that should be the only thing that matters to you.”

“Peter Wentz.” She warns.

“Mother! I'll fight for him. I'll do anything for him.” I press, “You cannot make me feel any different about him.”

“Yes I can if I send you to get help for it.” Mother glares.

“You send me away and I kill myself.” I point at her, “I'm not lying either. I'd rather be dead than to have somebody treat me like I'm not human because of my sexuality. I'd rather die than have one of those church loving fucks tell me I'm wrong and ‘ _ pray’ _ me better. That's not how it works.”

I can tell she's beyond pissed as she starts to nod with her jaw clenched, “Fine. You will act like a proper young man around the house, even when he is here. No P.D.A. around here.” 

“No promises, but I will be civil!” I jump to my feet and can’t get to the front door fast enough. My mother is shouting for me to come back and that she's not done talking to me but I’m done listening and sprinting down the driveway as fast as I possibly can. 

It feels like it takes forever to reach the gate which I toss open without any hesitation and dash across the road. I ring Patrick’s doorbell probably close to a thousand times too many, too excited to see my precious boy’s face.

He opens the door after probably five minutes. It’s definitely too late for this but it can’t wait another moment. I throw myself onto him and we both hit the floor with a thud. 

Patrick almost has a heart attack until I cry out his name, thinking I was an intruder.

“Pete! Oh my- How!?” He gasps as he grabs my face in his hands, he’d gotten chubbier but I liked him best this way.

He squishes my cheeks in his fingers, like he had that day that I had first kissed him, “Vincent he-... He’s amazing. He fixed it all.” I couldn’t help it as I kiss him as hard as possible. He kisses me back, of course. We stay there like that for far too long, it was almost as if air wasn’t a necessary thing to us.

It was a mystery to me why mother agreed to let me see him again. But now the pills were kicking in and I was too tired to care. I just had my Patrick back after almost a year.

“Stay the night?” He hums to me and I nod, “Come on, we have to go to my room for that.” Patrick pushes me off of him and stands, pulling me to my feet.

“I’m sorry, I took sleeping pills a few hours ago and they’re finally kicking in.” I mumble as I lean into him on the way to his room. That is after he locked the door and all.

“Why’d you take sleeping pills?” He scrunched his brow at me.

“It’ll be best if I explain it all tomorrow, I’m too tired and don’t want you to be upset.” I slur sleepily and he smiles, nodding and pressing a kiss to my forehead, right on the scar from the dock.

I slip out of my clothes, down to just my boxers and Patrick is already in his sleepwear, a baggy blue t-shirt and spongebob boxers. What a loser.

But he’s all mine and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

|||

In the morning I explained everything to him that had happened and it brought him to tears out of just pure worry.

Sleeping next to him for the first time was magical. He was so warm and smooth, he held me so close and mumbled in his sleep. I loved him so much, so, so much.

I couldn’t believe that I could walk into my house with him wrapped around me, but I could and I did and even though everybody stared and whispered back and forth, I still could and I wasn’t scared anymore. I kissed him in front of everybody and there was no fuss.

It was surreal.

All that was left was to tell his mom.

That night Patrick had me for dinner. We decided it was time she knew and we didn’t really expect her to be shocked by it, it was obvious.

Patrick sat across from me at the table while his mom cooked and he threw crackers at me like a child. I tried to catch them in my mouth but that was a massive fail, of course.

“If you’re going to throw them at least try and get them  _ close _ to my mouth. Thanks.” I speak as one flies over my head.

“Patrick, stop throwing things for the love of god!” She smacks him in the head with a wooden spoon.

“Ow! Hey! That hurt!” He whines as he turns to face her.

“Boo-hoo, do you want me to kiss it better?” She teases him and I laugh. He turns back in his chair to face me with a pout on his lips.

Goddamn, I just wanted to kiss it away.

“That’s what happens when you throw food, ‘Trick.” I shrug and he rolls his eyes at me.

“Hey, what would your mom do if she caught you throwing food around like that?” He asks, knowing my mother's temperament.

“Literally they would never find my body.” I shake my head with a smile.

“Honestly though, I would believe that.” He tells me as his mom places a pan of pasta with red sauce down between us.

“Alright, get out of my chair and go sit next to your little boyfriend over there.” She jokes and Patrick stands, moving to sit besides me. Though as he goes to pass by me, his hands go to my shoulders and he leans down and kisses my cheek, sitting down as if it never happened.

My red face tells otherwise.

“Marking your territory or something, Pat?” His mom teases and we laugh.

“Well, yeah.” He replies as he puts food on his plate.

“Hey!” She smacks him with the spoon again, “Guests first.”

“He’s rich, he’s always first, give me a break.” Patrick jokes as he looks up at me with those eyes that I had missed so much. Even though I’d spent practically every second of the past week and a half with him I still couldn’t manage to stop the rush of feelings I got every time I saw him or touched him or even thought about him.

“Patrick…” Mom sighs, “What am I going to do with you?” She smiles softly as I get my food and Patrick begins eating already.

“What? I’m just prepping him for when we’re married and I take all the food before him.” He speaks with a mouthful and I elbow him in the ribs, “Ow! Rude!” He slaps my arm.

“How do you put up with him?” Mom looks up at me, she has green eyes, unlike Patrick.

“I don’t know.” I shrug with a grin as I take a glance over at him out of the corner of my eye. He’s a mess, sauce everywhere, but I still adore him and think he’s the most beautiful damn person I’d ever seen, “He’s something special.” The words mean more to me than they would anybody else.

I take a few bites of my food as mom and Patrick talk about something unrelated to me. Patrick wipes his face on a napkin after a bit and turns to me.

“Hey, you’ve got stuff on your face.” He tells me and I cover my mouth with my hand.

“Where?” I ask and he pulls my hand away.

“I got it.” He leans in and kisses me, right there, as if it were nothing, something that anybody would do, “Shit it didn’t work.” He grumbles to himself as he pulls away.

He grabs a napkin and wipes the corner of my mouth, “All better.”

I start to laugh, I can’t tell if it’s nerves or not but I can’t help it either way. Patrick turns to his mother with a huge grin on his face, “So, I like boys.” He says as though he’s saying that it was raining out, “Especially this boy, he’s my favorite one so I chose to date this one.” He nods towards me as I’m laughing to hard to reply.

“I assumed from the amount of time you spent with him.” Mom smiles, “As long as you’re both happy.” She shrugs and before I know it the subject is something else and I’m holding Patrick’s hand under the table on my lap.

He truly was the man that I hoped to marry.

|||

Over time my family grew to love Patrick, they even loved his mom. So much had happened in just a few months of being back with him and this was the best time of my life.

As we watched the sunset from the dock at the end of July, holding hands and mostly absorbed in each other, I knew. 

We were Baby-Blues and Wide-Eyed Browns under the purple skies.

Patrick was mine and I was his.

I lean in and kiss him and he rests his head on my shoulder.

And I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if I should make this into like a small series of stuff where I write some cute drabbles about Rich!Pete and Commoner!Patrick  
> (Also I worked really hard on this so I'd love if you'd share it with people and comment and stuff)  
> (Also send me prompts please)


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